Push, Pull
by Meryl Edan
Summary: Sharon offers support as Brenda frets over her application for Chief.
1. Chapter 1

_**Push, Pull (The Closer: Sharon/Brenda)**_  
>Title: Push, Pull<br>Rating: T  
>Words: ~1800<br>Disclaimer: Characters property of their creators.  
>Note: I threatened a SharonBrenda fic. I've already been trumped by canon, but what the hell. (For fangirls who only watch Mary's eps, last week Fritz found out Brenda was being vetted for the Chief job, and he was encouraging.)

"...and now Will won't talk to me at all. He's acting like I stole his puppy or something, and let's face it, everyone knows I'm not going to get the job over him, he's a shoe-in, but he's still avoiding me and using Taylor as an intermediary to get messages to me...Taylor! You know he loves that, makes him feel important, and he'll hold it over my head for months, I'm sure... I'm sorry, I've forgotten why you're here."

Sharon Raydor shifted her weight and crossed her arms. "I came to remind you about the deadline for submitting your application for Chief, and I need your final report on the Wilson shooting. I can come back later if this is a bad time-"

"No, no, I have the report right here." Brenda Johnson lifted her trashcan and pushed a large pile of candy wrappers into it. She began shuffling the mess of papers on her desk, searching for the file.

She wanted to stop ranting but just couldn't seem to. Sharon Raydor had a way of smirking that made Brenda want to wipe the expression right off her face. Since assaulting an officer would only mean spending even more time with Internal Affairs, she just ended up getting increasingly agitated in the other woman's presence. She felt totally out of control right now, the Captain's presence also reminding her of recent, painful discussions.

"And Fritz-you would not believe his attitude about it," Brenda continued, becoming more and more animated. "He already thinks I work too much and don't spend enough time with him, but I love my job and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Besides, he works late a lot too, and really, if anyone should be upset, it's Joel, because we barely see him..."

"Is Joel your son?" Sharon took a step closer, craning her neck to see if she could spot the folder herself.

"No, our cat." Brenda elbowed a stack of files off the corner of the desk. "Dammit!"

In what Brenda considered to be an uncharacteristic display of politeness, Sharon knelt to help her pick up the mess.

"I just wish someone could be encouraging for once." Brenda's voice broke. She covered her mouth with one hand, but not before a hitching sob escaped her. She plucked a file from the floor, stood, and held it out to Sharon. Brenda struggled to hold back tears.

Before either realized what was happening, Sharon pulled the other woman's hand from her face and pressed her mouth to Brenda's.

"Reese's cups," Sharon observed, took the proffered file, and left.

Brenda pounded on the door in front of her. She was impatient and fuming. She knew it was late, close to midnight, and that her coming here this way might be grounds for a harassment charge. No matter-she intended to strike first.

Sharon answered almost immediately. She was still in the gray skirt she'd worn to work, but her suit jacket was gone, her white shirt untucked, and she was barefoot. She looked rumpled, like she'd been slouched in a chair or curled up on a couch.

"I could have you fired," Brenda declared without preamble.

Sharon adjusted her glasses. "For what?" she replied neutrally.

"For kissing me."

"Yes, you could."

Brenda waited, unsure why Sharon wasn't apologizing or arguing back. "Well, what do you think about that?"

"Is that what you're planning to do?" Sharon remained cool. Her even eye contact flustered Brenda all the more.

"I don't know yet. I just came over here to tell you I'm considering it."

"That's not why you came here," Sharon tilted her head. A tiny smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not. It's the middle of the night. You could have waited until morning, or until Monday, to tell me. You could have called instead of looking up my address, driving all the way over here, and flashing your badge to get past the security desk downstairs. Or you could have just filed a grievance and not said anything to me at all once you'd made your decision."

Brenda lowered her eyes and paced a short track in the hallway in front of Sharon's door. She held her head in her hands, thinking hard.

Finally she stopped directly in front of Sharon. "You're right," she agreed, before grasping Sharon's shoulders and kissing her quickly.

"Red wine," Brenda noted, and pushed past Sharon to enter her apartment.

Brenda threw her bag and coat into one of Sharon's living room chairs. She spotted a half-full glass of cabernet on the coffee table, next to a paperback book. Brenda picked up the glass and drained it.

"Do you have more of this?" she asked, waving the glass in the air.

"In the kitchen." Sharon remained a fortress of calm as she led Brenda down a short hall that opened into an expansive kitchen and dining area. The uncorked bottle sat on the counter. Brenda refilled the glass and the two women stood in the dim room as Brenda took another deep draught of the wine.

Sharon crossed her arms and waited.

"Why'd you kiss me?" Brenda asked.

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"I really don't know. It was just an impulse."

"Are you in the habit of kissing coworkers out of nowhere? Female coworkers?"

"Are you?"

Brenda raised her glass. "Touché." She took another sip of wine and thought for a moment. "I guess I can't report you now."

"Ha." Sharon smirked. She retrieved another wineglass from the cabinet above them.

"Allow me," Brenda offered, picking up the bottle to pour. The two women clinked their glasses together and stood in tense silence, sipping slowly.

"Do you really think I'd make a good Chief?" Brenda asked.

"I do." Sharon appeared to relax. She leaned back against the counter.

"Why?"

Sharon spoke earnestly. "You're strong and you have great conviction. No one is more committed to or better at your job than you are. You don't let anyone push you around."

"Well, thank you."

"I don't have anything to lose by encouraging you though," Sharon continued. "Pope has his own pride and ambition and your husband has time with you, as you said. Those are real losses."

Brenda scowled into her glass. "Pope's been playing me since the day I met him. And Fritz..." She took a deep breath. "We've never seen eye to eye. I think it might have been a mistake, he and I. They're the only people in my life though. I don't know who I'd..." She trailed off.

"Does your husband know where you are now?" Sharon asked.

"Oh, we had a fight," Brenda shrugged, exasperated. "I told him I was going to a hotel."

Sharon nodded. She offered the bottle to Brenda and, when Brenda nodded, Sharon emptied it into her glass.

The women passed a long silence again. Brenda seemed lost in thought. She finished her wine and set the empty glass on the counter. When she turned, she let eyes trail up Sharon's body.

"You have very pretty hair," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thank you."

Brenda studied the tousled waves falling over Sharon's shoulders. She lifted a tendril and wound it around her fingers. "It's soft, too."

Sharon trained her eyes on Brenda's face. "Why are you here?" she murmured.

Brenda ignored the question and continued to wind Sharon's hair in her hand. "You're the only one who suggested I apply for Chief. Why didn't anyone else? Fritz? Pope? My team?" She raised her eyes to Sharon's, searching for answers.

Sharon shook her head. "I don't know."

"You don't even like me."

Brenda's gaze dropped to Sharon's mouth. With aching tentativeness, Brenda leaned in. She touched her lips to Sharon's, and this time, neither pulled away.

Brenda felt the softness of Sharon's mouth against her own. When Sharon parted her lips, Brenda followed, whimpering when the tips of their tongues met.

Brenda pulled back abruptly, her breathing labored. She couldn't meet Sharon's eyes. "Do you... do you have someone?" She scanned the room for evidence of a partner.

"I did," Sharon said. "He left a few years ago."

Brenda turned to face the counter. She toyed with her empty wineglass. "Did he leave because of your job?"

"That was the biggest part of it, yes."

Brenda exhaled a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "How are you so calm right now?"

Sharon hummed. "I think I just keep waiting to see what you do next."

"I should go." Brenda pulled her cardigan tight around her and turned toward the hallway. "Thank you for the wine," she called over her shoulder.

Sharon caught her just before the front door. "Wait."

Brenda paused as she gathered her bag and coat.

"You can't drive-you've had too much to drink. It's very late anyway; why don't you just stay here? I only have the couch to spare but it's pretty comfortable." Sharon gestured toward the living room.

Brenda knew Sharon was right. She'd had nearly three glasses of wine, quickly, and she was exhausted.

Sharon loaned her pajamas and showed her to the bathroom, where she invited Brenda to use anything she needed. While Brenda washed up, Sharon retrieved spare blankets and pillows and made up the couch for her.

As Brenda lay in the darkness of Sharon's living room, tears finally overtook her. She felt so alone without Will's friendship and her husband's support, and bewildered by what she was doing here in Sharon Raydor's home. She'd _kissed_the woman, a clear indication she was losing her mind. And now Sharon was being kind to her, which she didn't deserve at all given the way she'd shown up here.

Brenda turned to face the back of the couch and tried to muffle her anguished sobs against the cushions.

She'd nearly cried herself out when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, come with me," she heard Sharon whisper behind her.

Sharon pressed a cool washcloth into Brenda's hand and Brenda used it to dab at her face as she allowed Sharon to lead her down the hallway toward her bedroom.

Sharon pulled her bedcovers down further and motioned for Brenda to get in and scoot to the far side, against the wall. Sharon then tucked herself into her side of the bed.

Sharon ignored Brenda once they were settled in, but she lay close enough for Brenda to feel soothed by her warmth, the sleight weight of her on the mattress, and her even breathing. Feeling the safest she'd felt all day, perhaps the safest she'd felt in quite some time, Brenda Johnson allowed herself to drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Push, Pull pt. 2 (The Closer: Sharon/Brenda)**_  
>Title: Push, Pull pt. 2<br>Rating: MA  
>Words: ~1200<br>Disclaimer: Characters property of their creators. 

Brenda didn't expect to be here again, not so soon. Not ever.

A week of constant argument with Pope and unbearable tension at home until Fritz finally fled for DC left her so raw and frazzled that she couldn't eat, sleep, or stand her own company. She hoped the end of the work week would bring relief, but when she arrived home late Friday night, she could only pace her kitchen, gritting her teeth. When she kicked at Joel as he strolled by, she knew she'd reached a breaking point.

Alcohol was tempting but not what she really wanted. No, she wanted to rail at the person who'd gotten her into this mess, who'd upset her equilibrium so badly that she was no longer able to navigate her work or her relationships, or even meet her own most basic needs for food and rest.

That's how she'd ended up at Sharon Raydor's apartment yet again, pacing back and forth in the hallway and pounding on the door at each pass until Sharon appeared and let her in.

Brenda had planned to curse but she kissed instead, kissed Sharon so hard against the wall that she knew she'd bruise them both. Sharon acquiesced to her immediately and let herself be pushed back to the bedroom, undressed, and splayed on her bed for Brenda to take.

Brenda saw only red, a deep crimson anger streaked with lust, as she pushed her fingers roughly into Sharon on an instinct she didn't know she had. She watched, smug, as Sharon bit her lip against cries at Brenda's repeated, deep thrusts.

This was right, it was satisfying, the power she felt at inflicting this mix of pain and pleasure on the woman who had done the same to her. She wanted to undo Sharon, to see her completely vulnerable, but Sharon couldn't-or wouldn't-come, though she writhed and gasped and furrowed her brow over closed eyes.

Brenda curled her fingers upward and pumped them harder, faster. Sharon's hips rose from the mattress and Brenda felt a clench, and then another, around her fingers. It wasn't enough though, not for either of them, so Brenda leaned over and crushed her mouth to Sharon's, demanding entrance with her tongue and receiving it as she reached deep, deep, deep inside the other woman's body.

Sharon came with loud, desperate cries. Her submission restored Brenda and as Sharon relaxed, so, finally, could she.

"You're tired," Sharon murmured, the first words either had uttered, as Brenda collapsed onto the mattress. Brenda nodded. She let Sharon remove her clothes and pull the blankets over them both. Brenda moved close, wordlessly asking to be held.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Brenda was roused by warm kisses between her shoulder blades. She rolled to her back and sleepily reached for Sharon, who moved over her. Sharon's hands traveled Brenda's body, her touch so gentle and nurturing that Brenda wanted to weep with shame for the rough way she'd handled Sharon earlier. She clung to the other woman as her body quaked, then fell asleep again almost immediately.

* * *

Brenda woke slowly. Her eyes protested the mid-morning light, but she forced them open to find Sharon facing her, her head resting on a folded arm. She looked as if she'd woken only moments earlier; Sharon was all tousled hair, swollen lips, and sheet-draped curves. The temptation to take her again was strong and as Brenda marveled at this new desire in herself, she realized her aggression had faded with the night and was now replaced by gratitude and an urge to be tender.

Brenda rolled to her side, closer to Sharon. They searched each other's eyes for several long minutes, unsure of what to do next, what to say, whether affection was permitted or expected.

Finally Brenda reached out to cup Sharon's cheek.

"Did I hurt you?" Brenda's voice was hoarse.

Sharon shook her head. Brenda felt a wave of relief.

"Let me be sweet to you," Brenda whispered before leaning in to press her mouth to Sharon's.

Sharon hummed and lay back to let herself be explored. Brenda took her time, mapping Sharon's smooth skin and lingering wherever Sharon seemed to enjoy her touch most. When Brenda nuzzled the undersides of Sharon's breasts, Sharon ran her fingers through Brenda's hair and sighed. As Brenda kissed her way down Sharon's abdomen, Sharon's legs fell open wider and she lifted her hips. She seemed to catch herself then and quickly pulled her legs back along Brenda's sides in apparent embarrassment. Gently, Brenda eased Sharon's knees apart and settled between them, intent on giving her what she wanted.

"Brenda." Sharon propped herself up and watched Brenda graze her teeth over her hipbone. Sharon shivered.

"I want to," Brenda said simply, then lowered her closed mouth to Sharon's sex.

As Sharon fell back into the pillows in capitulation, Brenda brushed her lips over the soft folds at Sharon's center. She eased her tongue in and stroked upward, lingering at the peak and rolling her tongue softly. She discovered Sharon slowly, enjoying the textures, the sounds Sharon made, and the way she moved beneath Brenda. Writhing and clutching the sheets, Sharon drew one foot up to rest on Brenda's shoulder. She pushed up against Brenda's mouth and came, groaning and gasping as she stretched and flung a hand back to the headboard.

After a final kiss to the crease of Sharon's hip, Brenda moved over her on all fours. Below, Sharon breathed deeply, her head to the side, her eyes clenched shut. Brenda smoothed some damp hair from Sharon's forehead and stroked her flushed face.

Eyes still closed, Sharon smiled broadly.

"Good?" Brenda beamed.

"Mmhm." Sharon lifted herself onto her elbows to capture Brenda's mouth with her own. She started to pull Brenda down to her but Brenda's stomach chose that moment to growl, and both women laughed.

They shared toast and melon in companionable silence at Sharon's small table. There wasn't much to say, Brenda thought, as she bit into her thickly buttered slice of toast. They'd slept together. They'd both liked it. Sharon's hand on Brenda's knee told her they were going to do it again after breakfast. Brenda instinctively knew Sharon shared her preference for no strings: no scheduling, no career complications, no pressure. She knew Sharon likely wouldn't stop beleaguering her at work, but now they could resolve their tension with the occasional glass of wine and hour or two in Sharon's bed.

_Not a bad arrangement_, thought Brenda as she studied the shadowy cleavage just visible at the neckline of Sharon's robe.

Sharon noticed and leaned forward to give Brenda a better view. Brenda nearly choked in surprise at their first real bit of flirting, and put down her toast.

"I think we're done here," Sharon teased as she rose and led Brenda back to bed.


End file.
